Hot in the City. Samantha Hunter

of a vaccine for biological weapons at a NYC-based biotech firm, and it was Gabe’s job to find out who it was. They’d only gotten part of the research, and would no doubt be making an attempt to get more. So DHS planted dummy research, hoping the culprits went for the bait.

      However, the perpetrator clearly had an inside contact, or a back-door in, to access the company’s research computers, which were offline. Gabe needed to get inside and find out who that contact was, and how the spies were accomplishing their task.

      He’d be going in as a DHS investigator doing routine security checks on the staff members who worked on military contracts. In reality, he’d be running deep surveillance and peeking under the covers to see what secrets the lab’s employees might be hiding.

      Anyone who was particularly interesting would merit deeper investigation. It meant digging into people’s lives—their private lives—and doing whatever it took to stop the leak.

      Della had worked for the company as a contractor in the past, on the vaccine project, though the details were above her civilian security clearance. She finished her work in the early stages of the project, but that didn’t mean she escaped suspicion. She was an outlier, a random element, but that made her particularly interesting. She might be completely innocent, but it was also possible she had been turned or was being compelled by foreign agents. She was also smart—so he had to be smarter.

      Gabe grabbed the computer bag he’d taken from the plane and slung it up on the wide table in front of the couch. He took pictures with his phone as he opened it, so he could replicate the case when he put it back together. An e-reader in a bright purple plastic skin appeared, and several foreign-language tapes tumbled out onto the floor.

      Della’s bag. He’d done his homework, bringing along a similar bag of his own and taking hers “by mistake.”

      The tapes were for learning Italian, but what he was most interested in was the laptop. There were no other papers of consequence in the case. He fired up his own machine, which had been waiting for him in the car, and started the password-breaking software he needed to get into Della’s computer.

      While it ran, he filtered through her other belongings. Opening the laptop, he raised an eyebrow at the spreadsheet labeled “potentials” and found a list of names—male names—with comments and traits listed. Then he saw the links to online profiles—not spies, but online dating profiles.

      Della was trying to find men online? That surprised him, and he went through the profiles, checking out each one in detail. In the process of doing so, he became irritated at the idea of Della actually dating any of these losers. She was better than this.

      A beep signaled him that the password had been found, and he turned his attention to her laptop, allowing him to skim her files and download everything to his computer. There were several locked folders, and those he would need more time to investigate. He put the case back together exactly as he’d found it and checked his watch.

      How long would it be before she noticed that she had the wrong bag and contacted him? It was imperative that she initiate their next contact. It would make her feel in control.

      He couldn’t deny that he was looking forward to seeing her again. The opportunity to get closer to Dr. Clark was a tempting one, and while part of the job, he didn’t usually feel this keen a sense of anticipation at the prospect. What he’d found so far, unless there was more in the files, required only a general surveillance. He wanted to learn more.

      For better or worse.

      It was a rationalization, of course. He also wanted to have sex with her; he could be honest with himself about that much.

      Sitting back, he pulled the laptop toward him, starting to study the files, and waited for the phone to ring. He had no doubt that it would.

       2

      DELLA SLOWED HER PACE as she approached the restaurant where she was meeting Gabe Ross. She’d been shocked when she’d opened her bag and realized it wasn’t hers. Especially when she’d discovered the stack of papers with the Homeland Security letterhead and his badge inside. She’d closed it as quickly as possible, calling him immediately.

      She’d been so flustered on the plane that she’d clearly grabbed the wrong bag.

      Still, she thought with a smile playing around her lips, it had resulted in her seeing Gabe again. It had taken every ounce of nerve to call him after discovering the mistake and finding his contact information on the luggage tag.

      As she approached the small café with tables on the sidewalk under a charming dark red canopy, she heard her name called and looked up to see Gabe standing by the door.

      Della walked quickly toward him, seeing that he had her case as well.

      “I’m so sorry,” she said, grimacing. “I could have had this sent to you, instead of dragging you all the way up here.”

      He smiled, taking his case as he handed her hers. “This is much better. I wouldn’t have wanted the case in unfamiliar hands.”

      “Oh, yes, I—” she said, dropping her eyes down, then meeting his again. “I didn’t look through your things, of course, but I did open it and saw you work for the government. I promise I only saw the letterhead and your badge and then closed it right away.”

      “I appreciate that,” he said. “Your things should be intact. I didn’t know we’d switched until you called.”

      Then one of the waiters, Gianni, appeared, smiling in her direction.

       “Ciao, Gianni. Come stai? Avete una tavola libera?”

      “Ho sempre una tavolo per voi, bella,” Gianni said fondly, grabbing menus and leading them to a table on the patio.

      Gabe looked at her. “You speak Italian, too?”

      “Not as well as I’d like to. I have a chance to go to Italy as a visiting lecturer this fall, but I haven’t made up my mind yet. So I practice when I can.”

      “Grazie, Gianni,” she said, smiling at the older man. “This is Gabe.”

      “Nice to meet you, Gabe,” the waiter said, and Della almost had to chuckle at how Gianni smiled, but his eyes narrowed on Gabe as he took their drink orders.

      “A close friend?” Gabe inquired when Gianni disappeared back inside.

      “I tutored his youngest daughter so she could improve her math scores for college, and I wrote her a recommendation. I spent several evenings at their home, and here at the restaurant, teaching her, so I did get to be friends with the family. They are a lovely group.”

      “Did she end up getting into the school she wanted?”

      “She did. Full scholarship to Cornell in veterinary science.” Della smiled, proud of her friend, and that she could help.

      “Did you grow up here, in the city?” Gabe asked.

      “No, I was born in Connecticut, and I spent a good deal of my teenage years in Boston.”

      She stopped there, not elaborating that she had spent her teenage years in Massachusetts because she had been admitted to Harvard when she was fifteen. She’d finished her first PhD by the time she was twenty, and then a second at twenty-four.

      “When did you start working at Columbia?”

      “About eight years ago. New York is home now. I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”

      “But you travel a lot?”

      “I do. I do work as a consultant on several government and private-sector projects in addition to teaching, and I visit universities in different countries. It’s a great excuse to travel.” She paused as Gianni delivered their wine and took their orders, then turned the discussion away from herself. “So, you work for DHS? That has to be exciting.”